Outlaw King
Page 1
Series by Julie Johnstone
Scottish Medieval Romance Books:
Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Series
When a Laird Loves a Lady, Book 1
Wicked Highland Wishes, Book 2
Christmas in the Scot’s Arms, Book 3
When a Highlander Loses His Heart, Book 4
How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady, Book 5
When a Warrior Woos a Lass, Book 6
When a Scot Gives His Heart, Book 7
Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Boxset, Books 1-4
Renegade Scots Series
Outlaw King, Book 1
Regency Romance Books:
A Whisper of Scandal Series
Bargaining with a Rake, Book 1
Conspiring with a Rogue, Book 2
Dancing with a Devil, Book 3
After Forever, Book 4
The Dangerous Duke of Dinnisfree, Book 5
A Once Upon A Rogue Series
My Fair Duchess, Book 1
My Seductive Innocent, Book 2
My Enchanting Hoyden, Book 3
My Daring Duchess, Book 4
Lords of Deception Series
What a Rogue Wants, Book 1
Danby Regency Christmas Novellas
The Redemption of a Dissolute Earl, Book 1
Season For Surrender, Book 2
It’s in the Duke’s Kiss, Book 3
Regency Anthologies
A Summons from the Duke of Danby (Regency Christmas Summons, Book 2)
Thwarting the Duke (When the Duke Comes to Town, Book 2)
Regency Romance Box Sets
A Whisper of Scandal Trilogy (Books 1-3)
Dukes, Duchesses & Dashing Noblemen (A Once Upon a Rogue Regency Novels, Books 1-3)
Paranormal Books:
The Siren Saga
Echoes in the Silence, Book 1
Outlaw King
Renegade Scots, Book 1
by
Julie Johnstone
Outlaw King
Copyright © 2018 by Julie Johnstone, DBA Darbyshire Publishing
Cover Design by The Midnight Muse
Editing by Double Vision Editorial
Kobo Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
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Charming Scots are the most dangerous rogues of them all! You can get Christmas in the Scot’s Arms for free by visiting www.juliejohnstoneauthor.com and clicking the free download graphic. Happy reading!
Dedication
I have to admit that I was nervous to take on such a well-known figure as Robert the Bruce, and I do not think I would have gotten through the book without the encouragement of my assistant Dee and my dear, dear friend and fellow author Katherine Bone. This book is dedicated to them and to all the lovers of history!
As always, the story was made better by my amazing editor, Danielle Poiesz, and I owe her many thanks.
Author’s Note
Dear Readers,
This book is a marriage of historical fact and author imagination. In writing Robert the Bruce and Elizabeth de Burgh’s love story, I endeavored to be as true to history as I could, but there were times I had to stray, just a bit, for the sake of the story. You will encounter many real historical people in this book, but you will also meet people that sprang from my mind during my research of the period. I hope that you enjoy reading the story of Robert and Elizabeth as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you’re interested in when my books go on sale, or want to be one of the first to know about my new releases, please follow me on BookBub! You’ll get quick book notifications every time there’s a new pre-order, book on sale, or new release with an easy click of your mouse to follow me. You can follow me on BookBub here:
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All the best,
Julie
Table of Contents
Cover
SERIES BY JULIE JOHNSTONE
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
DEDICATION
AUTHOR’S NOTE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Prologue
1296
Northern Scotland
Revolt had its own scent. It was one of burning wood and flesh, fetid wounds and rancid sweat, and it lay heavy in the air. Robert the Bruce, Earl of Carrick, smelled it with every breath he took.
“Rebellion surrounds us,” Laird Niall Campbell said, pride ringing in his voice.
Bright-orange flames leaped into the sky from the destroyed guard towers that flanked the raised drawbridge to Andrew Moray’s castle, which Robert had been commanded to invade. Commanded. The word reverberated in his head, making his temples throb. He glanced to his friend who sat mounted beside him. Perspiration trickled down Robert’s back beneath his battle armor, and the moans of captured men reached his ears. Gut-hollowing guilt choked him. “We’re on the wrong side of the fight,” he said low, acknowledging out loud what they both knew.
Niall hitched a bushy red eyebrow as hope alighted in his eyes. “Dunnae tease me, Robbie,” he whispered, ever careful, though they were far enough away from Richard Og de Burgh that the King of England’s man would not be able to hear them. “Dunnae say such a thing unless ye are ready to disregard yer father’s dictate.”
“I’m ready,” Robert replied, meaning it. The desire to follow his heart and defy his father, who demanded blind obedience to a plan that no longer had worth, had been building for months. Now, in this moment, it felt as if it would cleave him in two, it beat so strongly within him.
The time is not yet ripe to act, his father kept claiming. It was, and it had to be, now. Today. He could not take up arms against his own countrymen. He could no longer submit to his father’s foolish order to remain aligned with King Edward in hope of gaining the
Scottish throne, which had been stolen from their family by the usurper John Balliol.
“I’m a Scot, for Christ’s sake,” he muttered.
“Have nae I been reminding ye of that verra fact for nigh a year?” Niall’s hand lay on the hilt of his sword, revealing the danger of what they were about to do.
“Ye have, my friend, ye have,” Robert said, his mind swiftly turning. His father should now rightfully be King of Scots, but instead Robert sat here ordered by the ever-reaching King of England to destroy a stronghold in the land he loved, while his father seemed perfectly content to stay in England amid the comfort of the Bruces’ plush English holdings rather than venture back to the wilds of Scotland to rise against King Edward and risk losing everything. Robert could no longer deny the truth—his father lacked the iron will to do what was right.
War meant blood, strife, and possibly death, but subjugation to an English king was a different sort of death, one of the spirit. He could not live that way. “We’ll no longer be safe if we rise against Edward this day,” he said, accepting it, but wanting to give Niall, who was married and had a daughter, one last chance to change his mind and keep his submission to Edward intact.
Niall snorted. “I thrive on danger.”
God knew that was true enough. Niall had always been right there with Robert at the front of every battle, even on the day the Scot’s daughter had been born. Still…
“We will be hunted,” Robert added.
“Let them try to catch us,” Niall said with a smirk. “The devil English king will nae stop until he sits on the throne of Scotland. He will kill all who continue to rebel, and that includes our people. I’d rather be hunted than aligned with King Edward.”
“We will be outlaws, enemies of Edward.”
“Shut up, Robbie,” Niall growled, using the nickname only those close to him dared use. “Quit trying to dissuade me. Ye need me.”
“I do, but yer wife and yer daughter—”
“My wife will dance a jig when she hears we’ve taken up arms with our countrymen. Dunnae fash yerself. Tell me what ye want me to do.”
Robert contemplated that very question. He needed to be canny and proceed in the best way to protect his men. The wind blew from the west, sending billows of white smoke and heat toward them and de Burgh—the king’s closest friend and advisor—who was mounted on his steed, some thirty paces ahead of them. De Burgh looked away, but Robert faced the wind. He, too, would suffer every hardship he demanded his men to endure, and most of the men who had ridden here on his command were in the path of the smoke. It burned his throat, nose, and eyes, making breathing nearly impossible.
Death by fire would be an awful way to die.
Robert swiped a gloved hand across his watering eyes and focused on the falconry building that stood vulnerable behind them. It was on the wrong side of the moat—the land unprotected by the drawbridge. Counting, his gaze moved over the captured Scots lined up in front of the outbuilding by de Burgh’s men. Twenty of the Scot rebel Andrew Moray’s men would die this day on de Burgh’s command, unless the Moray warriors lowered their drawbridge and sent their laird, a leader of the Scottish uprising against Edward, out. Robert could not allow their deaths or Moray’s.
“Andrew Moray!” de Burgh bellowed toward the castle, which was separated from them by the moat alone. The powerful Irish noble’s accent sounded especially thick with anger. “Lower your drawbridge and surrender, or we’ll burn your men alive.”
Robert’s hands tightened reflexively on his reins as the captured men moaned their protest, only to be silenced by the swords upon their chests, no doubt pricking flesh in warning. There was no more time to ponder. He had to act. These men would not lower the drawbridge.
De Burgh was a fool to think he could ride here from England and command these Scots. They hated Edward for his attempt to put himself on a throne he had no right to occupy. “Ride to the head of my men,” he said to Niall, “and wait for my signal. If I can avoid bloodshed I will.”
“Och,” Niall said, “blood will be shed this day, but it will nae be Scot’s blood.”
“We can nae guarantee that, Niall,” Robert replied.
Niall nodded. “I ken,” he said, his shoulders sagging a bit. “Try to prevent a battle then,” he relented, “but I feel in my bones it’s imminent.”
Robert felt it, too, but he had a responsibility to do all he could to protect his vassals. “Go to the men,” he urged.
With a nod, Niall turned his horse from Robert and headed down the hill toward Robert’s vassals. Three hundred and fifty of his men who were loyal to him stood mixed with three hundred and fifty of the king’s men. Robert clicked his heels against his steed’s side and closed the distance between himself and de Burgh, who flicked his gaze at Robert and then yelled toward the castle, “You do not have long to decide!”
“De Burgh,” Robert growled, “ye can nae burn alive innocent men. They follow Moray’s orders.”
De Burgh jerked his head toward Robert. “Innocent?” he snarled. “These Scots rebel against Edward, their liege lord. They deserve their fate.”
“Edward is nae their liege lord,” Robert said through clenched teeth. “John Balliol was their king.” The words sliding from his tongue were bitter but true.
“They should be glad to see such a weak king as Balliol driven from the throne,” de Burgh retorted.
“Edward’s plan all along, I’m certain,” Robert snapped.
De Burgh flashed a smile. “Your people are the ones who appointed Edward to choose the next king of Scotland, all those years ago, if you recall. And he saw Balliol as the man with the best claim to the throne.”
“He saw Balliol’s weakness, and my grandfather’s strength, and that’s why Edward chose Balliol,” Robert growled.
“You sound as if you wish to rebel,” de Burgh said, smirking. “Where is your father, then?” De Burgh made a show of twisting around on his horse as if searching for Robert’s father before facing Robert once more. His lips curled back in a taunting smile. “Ah yes, your father does not have the fortitude to rule Scotland. If he did, he would have risen in rebellion with the people who would fight against Edward in Balliol’s name. Fall in line with me, Bruce,” de Burgh threatened. “You have no other choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” he spat out, finding the hilt of his sword and flicking his gaze toward Niall and Robert’s vassals some one hundred yards behind them. Robert looked to de Burgh once more and motioned toward the captured men. “Release them.”
“You insolent, foolish pup!” de Burgh growled, spittle flying from his mouth. “Stand down! Moray!” de Burgh roared. “I give you to the count of ten before I order my guards to fill the outbuilding with your men, and we can all watch them burn.”
A window at the front of the castle banged open, and a woman—Lady Moray, Robert realized—appeared. “My husband is nae here, so we kinnae send him out.”
De Burgh snorted. “She expects us to believe Moray did not come here to gather more men?”
“Perhaps he did nae,” Robert said, seeing a chance to prevent bloodshed. “Moray rebels by the renegade William Wallace’s side, and Wallace’s men keep to the woods. Perhaps Moray went there first.”
“I don’t believe it,” de Burgh snapped. To Lady Moray, he shouted, “Lower your bridge. I will see for myself if you speak the truth.”
“Nay, ye Irish scum! Ye simper and cater to the English king!” Lady Moray bellowed.
Robert’s fingers curled tighter around the cool iron of his sword. There would be war today, after all. Lady Moray had just shot an arrow of barbed words at a man who wore his pride like a cloak.
De Burgh’s face turned purple. “Burn them!” he cried, his voice trembling with rage. The two guards standing near the door rushed to open it, and as they did, de Burgh flicked his hand to a slight guard who held the torch. “Set the fire when the door is closed.”
Shouts erupted from the captured warriors, and
Robert’s blood rushed through his veins and roared in his ears. His life was about to change forever. But his honor would remain intact. He would rise in rebellion, not for Balliol to be returned to the throne as king, but for the people of Scotland to keep their freedom. He could worry of nothing else now.
The terrified shouts of Moray’s men as they were locked in the falconry pierced the roar of blood in his ears. “Tell yer men to halt,” Robert yelled to de Burgh. “Do so now and take yer leave from Moray’s land, or I’ll kill ye.” His heart beat like a drum.
De Burgh bared his teeth. “You have misplaced your loyalty, Bruce.”
Robert flicked his gaze past de Burgh, over the rocky ground that separated the two of them from the warriors in the distance, to Niall. He raised his right hand and swiveled it round, giving the signal to rebel.
Niall smiled, a flash of white against his sun-bronzed skin. He raised his own hand and returned the signal. They would live or die this day, but they would do it with honor.
Tension vibrated through every part of Robert’s body as he yelled, “To arms for Scotland!”
All at once, the hissing, scraping, sliding, and singing of seven hundred blades filled the air, and the clashing of steel sounded in the distance. A woman’s scream ripped through the noise, shocking Robert by how close it was. De Burgh swung his sword at Robert, but Robert parlayed the blow and unseated de Burgh with one move. With no time to waste, he turned his horse toward the outbuilding, and he gaped at the scene before him. The squire who held the torch was running from de Burgh’s guards and toward Robert. The young man suddenly swerved toward the moat and threw the torch toward it. The bright flame disappeared into the water, and Robert raced to save the man who would likely be killed for his actions.
Robert met the guards halfway to the squire, who was now running back toward him. He parried a blow from the left, then the right, and caught a glimpse of Niall riding fast toward him.